


Morality

by blockedtwice



Category: Attack on Titan, Shingeki no Kyojin | Attack on Titan
Genre: Angst, Cussing, Death, Denial, Drama, Eventual Romance, F/M, Falling In Love, Father-Daughter Relationship, Fights, Gang Violence, Gangs, Hunter Training, Hunters & Hunting, Implied/Referenced Suicide, Killing, Loss of Parent(s), Love/Hate, Mental Breakdown, Mental Instability, Misunderstandings, Running Away, Sad, Secret Organizations, Sick Character, Slow Burn, Slow Romance, Survival Training, Titans, Training Camp, Trapped, Trials, Violence
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-05-11
Updated: 2019-05-19
Packaged: 2020-03-01 02:40:02
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 9
Words: 19,136
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18791320
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/blockedtwice/pseuds/blockedtwice
Summary: With punch to the face, a back to the wall, and a shove into the dirt, [Name] can only feel her heart patter against her rib cage. It's like a hammer that echoes throughout her body, through her pierced mind, and her eardrums. It's like some bass drum that never ends. With a gun to her face, her fate is chosen as quickly as it was offered. A destiny that, to this day, she doesn't know how to thank.





	1. Chapter 1 - Prologue

January 3, 821

 

Today was not a good day. It makes me slightly disappointed on how today turned out.. Mother is only getting worse, and I was forced to risk my freedom trying to get her the medicine her body needs, and I barely managed. Father has not returned, but I have hope! Reassurance to myself is key! Father told me that he had to, 'say goodbye to the birdies.' I envy him.. I once saw a bird, it was a silky white and it just seemed so naturally beautiful, with a golden beak and long orange feet... That was, until a rotten old man snatched the lovely creature away... People can be so cruel sometimes, I wish I understood why...

I gave mother her medicine, I think she will get better. Thinking back on when I was stealing it... I don't think I could have done it alone... someone helped me. A boy with the two coldest eyes I feel I have ever seen. One can only imagine what that boy must be going through...

        -[Name]


	2. Chapter 1 - Medicine

 Medicine - The 1975

 

 

        A small shadowy figure leaped through the tall buildings, down long roads, and swept past lanterns that hung in the cool, misty, dry air. The silhouette of the humans black cape whipped in the air, binding past bricks, attacking the young girls skin and allowing the brittle breeze, created by its velocity, to strangle the thin body. The heartbeat of the young girl echoed through her ears, the pulse making a slowly increasing rhythm for every minute she sprinted. Adrenaline rushed through her veins, blinding all of the pain and thoughts and throwing them down a pit, leaving her brain an empty slot, yet so full of the words, "RUN!" Shoes slid across the dry pavement as she came to a halt, her legs burning for oxygen, and her mind beginning to run wild at what was put before her. All she saw with teary [color] eyes was a brick wall. She wanted to stare at these grey bricks forever, she wish she could sit and wonder why and how people built it, but she couldn't. She still had a job to finish. A mission. She had to make her parents proud. She had to make it out of here alive.

        Without a second thought, she turned on her heel. Before she knew it, she was confronted with a man in a brown suit, and very thin-framed glasses. In his hand held a long knife, possibly to attack me if it came down to it. The young girl tried to get the thought of a knife entering any part of her body out of her head, as she took the bottle of meds out of her sidebag. The man who gave her the bottle was yelling out profanity, screaming at [Name], but his words fell upon deaf ears. She wasn't backing down, not now.

        "Young lady, put the goddamn medicine down! Do you realize how hard I work to make money with that stuff? I need to feed my children!" The professor yelled.

        [Name] chuckled, placing her hand on her hip, still holding the medicine in a taunting way. Shaking the bottle, she spoke, "Sounds like a real struggle! Come at me, you bald-eagle! I'm not afraid of the edge of a knife!"

        And just like that, the man stood there, a quaking mess. His mouth was wide open, as if he had something to say but... he couldn't? The girl sat, staring at the man, as his hands dropped the knife and stood a stuttering mess, that is when she saw the blood. Pouring down the jugular of the neck, was a line, blood bursting out profusely, dripping onto the mans brown suit and staining it a permanent dark brown.

        His neck was slit, but... I didn't see anything!

        The old professor slowly fell forward, down onto his knees, revealing the killer that stood behind him. She felt pierced by the eyes that she was confronted with. Dark. Pained. Destroyed. A young boy, about her height, with pitch black hair stood, glaring at her with the look of murder. A look that she was not too fond of... Especially when it came to a boy who had literally just MURDERED someone right in front of her! She did not want to be dead meat just like the old man. Hell, she was too young for that shit, she just started learning how to read! Before she could scream "BARK," [Name] sprinted right by him, keeping intense eye contact with him as to make sure he didn't backstab her. Quite literally.

        'A bottle of pills? That's what I saved you for?' A dark voice asked. It wasn't deep, but it surely sounded broken. Damaged...

        She came to a sudden hault. 'Yeah, pills. Got a problem with it, Mr. Killer? Why do you care if I'm popping pills or not? I don't even see the reason on why you... murdered that dude, anyway! I can handle my-'

        I was interrupted with a loud 'tsk.' 'Shut up. I saw your face. You were scared, and you can't deny it. You're a frightened little weasel... just like everyone else.'

        [Name] was taken aback. Did this kid never learn manners? Where is his respect? I know he doesn't know me.. but what's his deal-

        'All I'm saying is, if you keep thinking the way you do, it's gonna get you killed in the future. You're not invincible. You don't have armor. You're-'

        Before she allowed the rude boy to continue, 'Thank you, and goodbye fellow human!' [Name] yelled, vanishing into the fog of the dusty town. The boy stared at her the entire time, studying her blatant hope and confidence for everything... It made him sick.

 

 

        [Name]'s legs started to feel the burn and her eyes wanted to start watering as the adrenaline left her aching body. Her knees wobbled and her arms felt weak and out of connection with the rest of her frame. Her lungs felt rusty with the constant running, as well as her legs, which showed much discomfort by it all. She felt foolish as she finally stepped upon the pavement right in front of her weak, wooden door. Opening it with a light creak, she saw the small candle illuminated her mother, still lying on the only bed in the home. She was covered in thin silk sheets, given to them by some very kind people who used to come by once a year with a basket of rations and clothing.

        [Name] walked in with a loud sigh, shutting the door behind her and locking it for safe keeping. She put her brown sidebag down, opening the medicine bottle and pouring a few pills into her hand. She then walked over to the bucket of cold water they had and scooped up some with a wooden cup, as well as grabbed a rag that still had some of the stale water on it. [Name] hoped it would work. She really fucking hoped her mother, Lisa, would heal after this and be okay. When she stood up and walked over to her mother, her heart stung, like it had many times before. She placed the rag on her mother's forehead, listening to her mother's heavy breath. As she got closer to hear her heartbeat, she felt the breathe violently brushing against her cold ears. Her mother seemed okay apart from her intense breathing, and it made [Name] a little happier.. but it wasn't enough as tears threatened to spill over, blurring her vision and her grasp tightening on the sheets that barely protected her mother.

        'Mum... I'm so sorry for everything... I wish papa would just come back... I wish you could stand up! I'm so sorry!' [Name] shoved her face into the silk, screaming and sobbing. The blanket soaked up her tears that seemed like a stream that would never end. She tries so hard to seem okay. She tries to not show her problems outside of these walls... but it all becomes too much to bare...

        'Shhh..' A loving hush spoke from above her. The voice she missed so much. It sounded like an angel was calling down to her from heaven... 'It will all be okay, honey. I swear to you... I will always be here.'

        [Name] slowly lifted her head, her gaze focusing in on her mother's deathly appearance. She looked so tired, and she looked so sleep deprived. Her cheekbones were prominent, and the bags under her eyes were the blackest I've ever seen. She was so pale... Her once shining blue eyes now a dark, empty pit of only sadness. Her skin so dry, and pale, it almost seems unreal. [Name] lifted her weak, frail hand and let it rest of the cheekbone of her mother, that was once healthy, round cheeks. 

        Before letting her mother fall back asleep, [Name] grabbed the medicine and the water, handing it to her mother, 'I believe this should help... maybe not fix it, but it will make it easier to bare. I'm sure of it!' 

        'Darling... We can't afford this stuff.. don't tell me you..?'

        'I'm sorry, mum! You're my first priority! Don't worry about me, you have enough to worry about. Allow yourself to heal, please..'

        After Lisa sipped the pills and some water, she looked deep into my eyes, saying her last words before falling into a long slumber, 'Don't forget to worry about yourself... you matter just as much as anyone else... I love you, my little bird.'

        'I love you too, mum. I will continue to fight... Even if it means I have to kill for you.'

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Update Every Week :)


	3. Chapter 2 - Anchor

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I also have a Quotev account by the username: Nolongerami
> 
> Follow me there if you want :)

A/N. Have any of you read the official Romeo & Juliet? I've begun reading it, and I think it's amazing. It sounds like some hyped up middle school relationship, which oddly sounds like my last relationship. Almost every bit of it, even if it wasn't middle school. hECK. Anyway, I just realized I have tons of work to do, because I'm making a script for a production, and I forgot. So I gotta keep this up and the other productions I'm in... oH wElL. Enjoy. (Just sending out songs I really like haha.)

 

 

        [Name] P.O.V

 

        With a click of the handle, I bounded out the door of my tiny house and I quickly sped down the gloomy sidewalk, my small boots pounding against the pavement. The sidewalk was full of homeless families, huddled together for warmth, and comfort. A few looked incredibly sick, their cheekbones sticking out similarly to my mothers...

        It's no use. You'll end up just like them soon.

        No. You won't. You don't back down!

        Turning on my heel, I jumped up a few steps, now standing at my boss' front door. Knocking on the cracked wooden door, I stared at my shoes, waiting for the door to slowly creak open like it does everyday. Every single day you walked up to that door, to be greeted by a grumpy old man, with his disgusting hands that always seemed to be just a little too close. And his eyes that seemed to wander a little too much. But, you had no option. You had to feed your mother and yourself somehow. You had to keep up with this boring life of gathering the bare minimum money from scraps and tearing your skin to not give up, and then hopefully live another day to do it again.

        'Agh.. you need something kid?' The tired grump spoke, opening the door with a slow pull. The old man who stood in front of you had his head slightly looking through the opened part of the door, his eyes throwing arrows straight into her bright [color] eyes.

        'Yes, the newspaper?' You spoke confidently.

        'Oh, right... Paper girl, I see the handle of your knife sticking out of your boot, I recommend you fix that. Some wandering adults wouldn't appreciate it too much...'

        Ah, the sweet sound of your nickname you have gained through the years. It's nice to hear it for the thousandth time... But, what the hell does this old guy expect from you anyway? With the town you two live in, he wants you to be normal and walk around as if someone won't jump out at you and attack you at any moment? Hell, you learned your damn lesson the day you stole the medicine for your mother. That boy could have come up to you and done the same thing he had done to the professor. One day, you swear you will bring a bomb next time that boy shows up.

        'It's none of your business, old guy. I do your work, and I get the money. Hand over the newspaper. You act as if I haven't been here almost a hundred times already.'

        The old man laughed, showing off his disgusting rotting teeth, many of them already gone, 'Feisty... Well alright, I'll be back in a moment.'

        'Moron..' You whispered to yourself, hoping he would hear, but at the same time, hoping he doesn't, in case he decides to act on it. Luckily, he didn't hear you and he walks away. You stare at your shoes, until he comes back, opening the door fully and handing you the huge basket of newspapers, all bundled up in lose string. Trying to convince yourself that the 15 cents you would get from this was worth it, you walked away with the huge basket. And with all of that... you finally started your daily routine of dropping off newspapers at people's houses. It was useless even making newspapers, but I suppose when half of the population is down here, and the other half is up there, you don't have much of an option. You were 99% sure that almost all of the text on the page was 'Yet again, a titan has munched on another citizen!' or 'But wait, there's more! The wall was breached yesterday!' Wow, amazing! Our lives are on the line and they're writing about it as if it's nothing.

        Disappointing.

        Walking up to the door to a friend of yours, you knocked, hoping they would answer soon. They were old, like most of the people around here, but it didn't bother you. Unlike most people think, old people are not all wise. Some are... just some more than others.

        'Paper girl? Oh! [Name], it is wonderful seeing you here again little lady!' The old lady, Jasie, spoke, the door wide open, as well as her arms. After going in for a hug, which you never would deny from a sweet oldie like Jasie, you smiled at her, handing her a newspaper. You did a curtsey, 'Saluations, Queen. Your paper girl is here to deliver another one of her grand treats.'

        'Look what lady you are becoming! I am so proud of you, honey... What's in the news today?'

        You sighed, frowning, 'Unfortunately, I didn't stick around long enough to find out. Not that I care to be honest...'

        'No, no, no, news is so important! It is of much importance that you stay socially aware of everything,' she pointed to your chest, right over your heart, 'or else you'll lose the hope you've hidden deep inside you. Little did you know... other people are the cause of that blind hope. It may be hard to believe, but..' My mother.

        'But, it's hard to find people that are important these days... At the moment, I only see you, Jasie.'

        What a sweet girl... now, go on, don't make the citizens wait!'

        You stepped off the front step, proceeding on the route you took everyday while delivering newspapers. First, down, a long alleyway no one knows the name of, where homeless people tend to be the most common. Then, down towards Jasie, and her other friends place, leading straight into the Plaza--

        '-I'll kill you, you hear me?!'

        It is quite a common home for most of the fights... Whether it is kids fighting a couple of bullies, or some kids running away from the store managers, because they needed to eat. In summary... it was all caused by kids.

        'You're so pathetic.'

        Pathetic? That voice... it's so familiar. You usually checked out when entering the plaza, no matter what was happening. This time, you couldn't ignore it. That voice just... sounded too familiar.

        Still holding the large basket of newspapers (now only a few still resting inside), you made your way over to the crowd that had gathered around the angry voices. A loud punch echoed through your ears and through your chest, and part of you wanted to run and just continue throwing newspapers at people, yelling, 'I'm quitting this job one day. And I'll be your boss!' But the other part of you told you to stay. You were just too curious for your own good...

        'Where the hell are your parents? Go home and just be a good kid!'

        'Ignorant adults.. what if I told you that mine are dead?'

        Just as I suspected, you thought.

        'Only a stupid kid like him would end up in this situation..' You said aloud, a tight grip on your basket, and your eyes strained on the sight that laid out in front of you. The boy you had met that day stood there, above the innocent salesman, his face bloodied and bruised, and black hair covering his dark eyes. The salesman looked almost knocked out cold, his jaw looking disfigured, nose bloody, and cheeks a dark red and purple. Only one of his eyes could open, the other shut and swollen. It was a horrifying scene... that only that stupid boy could possibly get himself in.

        'You mean, you've never heard of him?' A shaky voice asked behind you. You spun your head around, eyes stopping on the girl that stood only a little taller than you, and only seemed only a little more frightened than you. Her eyes were wide and bloodshot, as if she'd been crying.

        'The boy with the black hair? No... I've only met him once.' You said with a strange look.

        'Everyone is too scared to meet him. Too scared to even make eye contact with him. Some swear he can shoot literal daggers through his eyeballs, but I think they're lying..' She cracked a small smile, making me laugh.

        'Do you know his name? He-'

        'Levi. Just Levi. No one knows his last name, or who his parents were, or who is currently taking care of him. All we know is that he often gets himself in trouble, picking fights with people that never even harmed him. He is quite mischievous.'

        'As if I didn't see that already... He kind of pisses me off.'

        'I don't recommend talking to him... especially in his current state...' She said with a concerned look on her face, as if she was asking, what the fuck did he do to you to make you hate him so much? And honestly, part of me wanted to answer it. But it only made me think.. I don't hate him... Wait, actually, I was kidding. I fucking hate his guts.

        I was tempted to just up and leave, until it all went downhill. As if it hadn't from the start.. Until Levi took out the knife and the salesman begun pleading for his life. I knew I had let this all go too far..

        'Kid, please! I'm just trying to feed my children and survive.. I DON'T WANT TO DIE!' The salesman begged.

        'Then maybe you should have thought twice about that shit you-'

        'Yo!' I yelled, walking into the empty area in the middle of the 'arena.' I took the hunting knife out of my boot, the one my father had given to me when I was young. For situations just like this.

        The two angry figures laying upon the ground looked up at me. One of them giving a horrified look, one of pure terror, and the other giving the coldest, most deathly look of all time. Their facial expressions seemed quite opposite, but anger was what brought those two together, and two different reasons for that anger...

        'You weasel! What do you want now?' Levi screamed at me, his hands and face dripping of blood, sweat, and tears.

        'A break is what I want. Get off the old guy, he doesn't deserve this.'

        'As if I'd listen to you.' He spoke with a harsh voice that cut as deep as a knife, still staring into my eyes with the coldest, yet the most pained gaze.

        Before I could continue to produce another sentence, a few soldiers quickly came over, their voices full-powered. I turned my head, observing the few soldiers that came over... but they all had their gaze on me. I turned my head back around and realized that Levi was gone. That little brat, leaving me to deal with this...--

        'Little girl, why do you have that knife?' One of the soldiers asked, holding a gun up to my forehead. At that moment, it all became real. Too real. I shrieked and immediately put the knife back in my boot, putting my hands up, and tears shredding almost immediately afterwards. My whole life felt like it was flying through around my mind...

        'I was trying to protect the salesman, I swear! The attacker disappeared before you guys saw him, please, I didn't do this!' I pleaded and pointed to the salesman, who was still laying on the ground, groaning in pain. Most likely slowly bleeding out as the time continued to tick.

        'I believe you, you have no blood on you anywhere, and your knife is clean. And, honestly, you look more frightened than a normal attacker would be.' The soldier laughed, putting the guns aim down towards the ground and walking over to the salesman's body. While the other soldier walks over to the crowd of people and trying to shoo them off, as well as trying to calm them down from all that just happened. I sighed, closing my eyes and letting my arms rest at my sides. All that was truly running through my brain at the moment was that damn kid. Levi. He was really beginning to push me off the edge with his know-it-all attitude. He would be the kid in class who would say the earth is flat and his evidence to it would be, 'Because I said so.' Or he would be the person who rejects food because it, 'was touched,' in some way. 

        A pessimistic idiot.

        'Little girl, I'm going to need to ask you-'

        'Levi.'

        'Thank you. That's all we needed.'

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Update every week!


	4. A Sentimental Value

        I picked up the piece of paper, admiring its natural beauty. A masterpiece that I created... The drawing felt so perfect, one that made me smile and laugh whenever I saw it... Maybe not idealistic for my age, but that didn't matter, I found it funny. That is all.

        'Uh.. [Name], what is that?' My grandfather's voice came from the rocking chair that sat in the farthest corner of the room. The chair was cushioned and all, maybe a little worn, but the beautiful carvings of floral that lined the wood made up for every flaw. I miss when my mother would sit on the chair, and brush my [color] hair... It wasn't anything exciting, it was just something that finally made me feel like every other kid...

        I glanced behind me, making eye contact with my very concerned grandpa, 'It's a drawing! A drawing of what I imagine it to be like above ground!' I proudly jumped up and sped over to the old man who still sat in the rocking chair, his body seemingly stuck there for life. One of his legs were gone, and the other barely hanging on after so long of his commitment to the scout regiment. He told me of the many times he actually went outside the walls and really saw the Titans. He had once told me of a titan he saw that was 10x his height!

        Unfortunately, after turning my drawing over for him to see, he immediately snatched it away. It seemed he didn't enjoy it too much..

        'Why are you drawing these things? This is nothing what it's like!'

        'But... that's what you told me!' I talked back.

        With a large sigh, my grandfather, Ryun, put the drawing down on the table beside him and looked into my eyes. 'That's only outside the walls. And it is all besides the point... life is different here. You can live, breathe, and eat. Just be grateful you have us here.'

        'But mother... father... and--'

        'Forget it. Even after we all leave, you will be grown enough to take care of yourself. You're maturing at an amazing rate, and I swear, soon you'll be taking care of us! But you need to know that life has its good and bad. Ups and downs. Rain or shine. That drawing... only represents a hurricane, that you don't have to-'

        You looked at him intensely, the smile temporarily erased off your face, now replaced with a serious glare that demanded an answer. 'And what if, grandpa, I told that I want to? I want to be in that hurricane. I want to feel the rain and the snow, and I want to hear the lightning and the waterfalls. What if I told you that I want to join the scout regiment?'

        'Every other person would say, "Preposterous!" But I allow it. I agree with you, young lady. If one believes hard enough, it will become real.' 

        'Mama always told me I am being stupid...' I sighed, looking down at my shoes.

        'Well, young girl, your mother is the stupid one. Here, take this knife. It was willed to me by someone in the scout regiment... I feel that you should now have it. Take good care of it, have my heart in it, and carry it with you everywhere.'

        'You got it, grandpa!'

        I jolted up, awoken by the swift rhythm of my heartbeat, some very exhausted lungs, and a racing mind. Memory after memory raced through my mind, filling like lungs inhaling every speck of oxygen in the open air. A feeling of sentimentality took her over as she glanced to the side of her, her eyes stapled on the knife her grandfather had given her so long ago... Who knew that the edge of a knife could give so much hope, yet cause so much pain to the touch of skin? Who knows it could bring back such feelings of love and worry, while at the same time, causing the skin to tear, and blood to drip and pour. It truly bewildered my mind... such thoughts raced through my head as I lay on this cold, wooden floor. It is probably dusty and full of disease. It hadn't been cleaned in so long... The insect population of the floor I'm currently laying on probably amounts to the number of titans that stand outside the walls, above ground, every night.

        '12 years old... and yet, I have never seen the sun. What a surprise...' I whispered, laying my cold hands upon the floor and lifting up my weary body. My hand was probably beyond splintered, since, let's be honest, a rough surface made for boots-only-contact is probably not healthy for hands that rub against its prickly texture. It feels like the outside of a cactus...

        Finally standing up straight on my lose knees, the same clothes that I always wore still stuck to my skin, along with my black cape, I looked upon my sick mother. She still laid upon the only bed in the home, practically hyperventilating into the thin sheets that lay above her sickly boney frame. A young mother, invaded by virus and disease, forced to lay inside with barely enough food and water to stay alive. Taken care of by her daughter who, at her age, shouldn't be able to escape the underground police; yet I do it anyway. I manage with a dark mind, broken heart, and I-will-turn-out-homeless future. No choice but to allow myself to slowly drift into an endless pit, one that will never let me forget. Never escape. And my only option is to watch it happen... unless...


	5. Chapter 4 - House Fire

[Narrator] P.O.V

 

        'One, two, three, four, I declare a thumb war!' Jazzy, one of your friends, yelled. She was the silly one, and always had something stupid to say, or something crazy to do... Like, one time she recommended jumping in front of the underground train with a flying dog, screaming, 'KAHOOT!' Or another time she asked me, 'If humans can fly, why can't pigs fly?'

        You tried explaining to her that if people were to throw some ODM gear on a little piggy and teach them how to keep balance, they would find themselves very disappointed. You try telling her, 'Pigs are stupid. They only know how to eat, sleep, and reproduce.' She quickly denied it all, trying to convince you that, 'Pigs are just humans that haven't evolved yet.' What the hell is this? Pokémon?

        Being with her was like being on a rollercoaster... a very exciting one, that brought you upside down, but it never put you on the ground. She always kept you on your toes. Like catching fireflies... with a huge net. Her jokes were the fireflies. Except, it was day time.

        'You're going down!' You grinned, extending your thumb to appear taller over Jazzy's thumb, then at the perfect time, tackling her thumb down. Your heartbeat began to race, trying to defeat the 'Almighty Jazz-o-Lax Thumb' as Jazzy liked to call it. Jazzy has never been defeated when it comes to a thumb war. But you were determined to change that today...

        'Oh my goodness, there's a pterodactyl riding a monkey!' Jazzy gasped, pointing behind [Name] with her other hand. 

        'As if I'd fall for that. I'm no loser.'

        'I highly doubt that! What is rotavator spelled backward?'

        You gave a mischievous smile, continuing to mess around and defeat Jazzy in thumb war, 'Easy. It's the same word.'

        'How many words are in Elephant?'

        'What a dumb question. 8 letters.'

        'Save 5 men risking someone else's life, or save 1 person risking no one's life?'

        Your mind suddenly blanked out. Save 5 men, risking another... or save 1 risking no one? It's quite a hard decision. Either way, lives are lost. Maybe there is someway between it?--

        Before you could predict it, your sweaty thumb laid beneath Jazzy's, being suffocated into the cluster of 2 hands. Your thumb faced its punishment as Jazzy laughed, counting to three and raising her arms in the air, screaming, 'Oh thee, oh thee, Jazzy is the king! King forever, I will be, Jazzy is the KING!'

        'Correction: It's actually Queen.'

        'Blah blah, I can't hear you! Too much applause!'

        'What a cheat! That question really got me thinking..' You said, standing up, Jazzy following your lead with a grin.

        Jazzy skipped around me, going in a quick circle, 'Don't be a sore loser! Those aren't fun at all! TAKE THE PUNISHMENT MUAHAHAHAHA.'

        'Hmm, do you hear that?'

        Jazzy froze on the spot, 'Hear what?'

        'Shhh...'

        'It's...'

        [Name] jumped at Jazzy with a large crash, throwing her to the ground with a grin and the two began rolling around on the floor. They were both in tears from the laughter that flew out of their mouths.

        [Name] loved these days. The days she could really breathe in the air around her, and her laughter bursting, almost like a flame in the night sky. She missed when she heard the creaking of the floor, from the hyperactivity of her and her friend, Jazzy... These days were so near, even now, but for some reason, it all felt so far away...

        'This dumb abandoned house has faces on the ceiling, I swear.' Jazzy looked to me, both of us laying on our backs, smiling up at the ceiling.

        'That sounds like a horror story to keep you up at night.'

        'You think THAT'S a horror story? I'll show you a horror story!'

        Before she knew it, Jazzy went to the windows of the abandoned house, closing the curtains and allowing the room to plummet into, what seemed to be, eternal darkness. The only source of light that lit up the avoidant room was a small candlelight that sat at a small table. Jazzy walked over to it, meanwhile glancing to what was on the ground next to it.

        A... blanket? And a pillow...? Jazzy thought.

        'Uh.. [Name], I think I found something.' Jazzy spoke with fear evident in her voice, like a pit of darkness sitting at the bottom of her lungs had suddenly taken them over.

        'What do you se-- Oh, geez... Looks like someone got to this place before us?'

        Jazzy crouched down, picking up a small journal that laid upon the pillow. She handed [Name] the candle, then untied the string that surrounded the notebook.

        'Woahwoahwoah, wait a second, we really shouldn't be snooping through other people's stuff! After all, we were the ones who barged in without permission while they weren't here.'

        Jazzy glanced at [Name] with a skeptical look, 'Got any better ideas?'

        'Put it back?'

        'Why not keep it?'

        [Name] sighed, 'For the last time, Jazzy... IT ISN'T OURS! Put the damn book back!'

        Jazzy dropped the journal from her hands, allowing it to fall freely, landing on the person's blankets, completely opened. 

        'You're such a fun-killer, [Name]..' Jazzy grabbed the candle from [Name]'s hands violently, showing off her attitude.

        'No, I'm just an honest, decent person.'

        Jazzy scoffed as both of the girls silently sat on the creaky floor, placing the candle beneath her chin so the shadows would curl themselves over Jazzy's head like long black claws. [Name] would never admit it... but it was definitely unsettling...

        'This house is quite clean for being abandoned, I kind of just realized tha-'

        Jazzy cut you off, 'Now, now, [Name]... It isn't time to worry about that nonsense. It's storytime MUAHAH--'

        'You realize, if we get caught, how much trouble we cou-'

        'Once upon a time, there was a tired old man. He had just come home from his tiring job in the mines. After finishing up dinner and eating his meal, he heads to bed. He lays there, staring out his window with a pale white, grinning face, that was directly in front of him..... He lives in a ca-'

        A resounding vibration ran through every surface of the residence. Your vision is blinded as an illuminating light barge it's way in, invading your every sense of self. Being blinded, the two girls lifted up their hands in front of their eyes and closed their abused eyes to defend themselves from the sudden shock of light that precisely shot a bullet into your eyes, feeling yourself begin to tremble as to what may be happening.

        The floor is shaking. Your eyes are blinded. You're completely defenseless.

        But, in reality, you couldn't think. You couldn't feel. The adrenaline cracked through every vessel in your small body lighting off fireworks inside your consciousness, blocking every reasonable judgment as to your next move. The past and the present no longer mattered. Your mind was too busy being clouded with the parasitic thoughts of the future, and who the fuck had just entered the damn house.

        'Interesting... the boy seems to have some fans,' high-pitched laughter echoed through the house.

        Your heart immediately sunk into the pit of your stomach, feeling the pulse quicken through your entire body. You had been caught, just like you predicted. I mean, an abandoned house? With materials that pointed a thousand arrows to the fact, that-DING-someone is living here, [Name]! Was the blankets and the pillow not enough to make you think, 'oh, maybe this is dangerous, maybe I should leave'? Apparently, they should have just put up 500 signs that say 'your death lies in here.' Even then, you probably wouldn't stay out.

        You suddenly screamed as your hand was hit by something violently, causing it to fall into your lap and ache with a searing sting. Great, your adrenaline was rushing, and your thoughts were racing. Now, you've got a f*cked up hand. 

        'FUCK!' You screeched, opening your eyes to allow yourself to see the criminal of your hand's pain. You were met with the barrel of a gun, staring straight at you.

        "I call this baby my Bull.'

        "How odd... it only has one eye?"

        The gun was jammed into your forehead, "Don't get smart with me, kid." You wanted to scream and bound into the streets, and find your way home. God, you wanted to scream at the top of your lungs and send that 'Bull' gun soaring into the sky like a bird; only to have it crash straight through the window. You found your heart plummet again. Your mind was racing, but you had to organize your thoughts before they got out of hand; you'd never find a way out of this if you kept talking like a moron. Okay, first of all, there's a f*cking gun digging into your forehead-NOT GOOD. Oh, and the second is just the cherry on top; you can't move. When in the hell did you suddenly become an ice statue? Destroyable, and immovable. The pain, the anxiety, it spread everywhere. In your chest, in your head, and, of course, in your (now most likely broken) hand.

        The beholder of the gun was a dark mass, mostly hidden because the searing light behind them was so bright, like the edge of a knife. And, you swear, the giant rocks currently rolling around in your body from the volcano that was exploding in your mind was messing with your vision. You could barely see anything, all you could see and feel was absolute panic. Damn perfect.

'Fucking pathetic. You're like a damn deer-' A deer? What kind of insult is that?       

        A scream sounded beside me. It was obviously Jazzy, who had done a complete backflip and a twirl right out of your mind for the last minute. Hour? Hell, a year could have passed and you wouldn't have even known.

        Your gaze immediately shifted as your head completely turned a 90-degree angle, your wide eyes finally landing on Jazzy's. Her once brown eyes that were always so full of love and happiness, were now bursting of the same exact terror that pounded through your body. It felt like every single cell in your body had gone into a frenzy of anxiety. Jazzy still held the candle, but now, with a deathly grip, her hands slowly turned into a pale white.

        'You have got to be kidding me,' the man stopped aiming the gun at me, and he slowly got down into a crouching position, baring his gaze into Jazzy's wide brown orbs, "Can you do me a goddamn favor little deer.. and put the candle down? Heheheh... storytime is about to begin-"

        "I DON'T WANT STORY TIME." Oops, that came out wrong. Now you just sounded like a bratty kid. "I mean, just... F*CK OFF!"

        The man froze, slowly turning his head towards you, 'Oh... I forgot you were here...' Did he literally just say he forgot I was there? He only turned away for a second. He stood up in a quick motion, whipping his shotgun in a circle motion, as if it were just some stupid toy, 'Well, first of all, I should get you out of here. The one that actually lives here wouldn't appreciate if it burned down because of 2 stupid little girls..."

        Okay, the third thing to note: this dude is f*ckin' oooooold.

        "The one who actually lives here?"

        'What? You seriously shouldn't be concerned about something like that right now-'

        "I DON'T KNOW WHAT TO BE WORRIED ABOUT ANYMORE!" You spat at him, "There's an old man threatening to shoot me, my best friend is screaming her lungs out, AND THAT MAN BEHIND YOU HAS A HUGE ASS FOREHEAD!" Okay, maybe you went a little too far since it wasn't true at all; you were just really desperate to get out of this situation before it got ugly.

        A loud, high pitched coyote laugh echoed throughout the house. The tall man stood as the source, crouching down to take his turn on you to look you straight into your eyes. You couldn't make out the color, but you could feel some kind of animalistic anger radiating off of him, 'Jokes are for the innocent, the delicate, the disease-ridden,' His voice felt like a void, and you could feel yourself gradually falling in, like an endless pit. 'They're made perfectly for titan food-possibly your moth-"

        "YOU'RE DEAD-" He grabbed your forehead pushing your head back and making you look straight up at him. Okay, maybe he isn't dead. You over exaggerated again. This dude was tall.

        "Actually, last time I checked I was still alive." He joked and even went to the extent of letting go of your forehead and placing that same hand over his chest to check for his pulse. What a douche-y move.

        "Haha, hilarious." You spat in his face.

        He stood up for the last time, allowing his laugh to echo and quickly throwing his shotgun over his shoulder like some ragdoll, lifting his other thin arm to point at Jazzy with gloved hands, "Henry, take this other girl right here and bring her with. It's not what we needed, but fuck it, I guess."

        Another tall man, who wore a large black hood came barging over to Jazzy, taking her by her long blonde hair that was in a ponytail. She screeched and blindly fought at the air as he pulled her along, forcing her to stand up and take weak steps with a few rough tugs of her ponytail. You caught a small glimpse of Jazzy's face, and you could see tears threatening to fall from her red eyes.

        Seeing the man in front of you lift his hand to get to your hair, you immediately punched him, throwing your fist into the vacancy that his hood created, and ended up hitting him square in the face. The black hood he wore flew back from the force, finally exposing his features. His cheekbones were large, and his face was super thin. He had dark brown hair with dark sideburns that shaped his rough looking profile. The man took a swing your way, and luckily, your grandfather taught you how to fight long ago... You turned your arm sideways, pushing up into his punch, managing to push his arm far above your guys' heads. Turning that hand around, you swiftly grabbed his wrist, taking your other arm under his unbent elbow, taking a step forward between his legs so he was restricted. His arm was in the perfect place, so you hit as hard as you could into his elbow. A resounding crunch followed. As well as an ear-piercing 'FUCK.'

        "Now it's your turn to scream, old man."

        Reaching down to your boot, you felt for the handle of the metal blade and took it out with a rapid movement. It shone in the light, showing your face in the reflection. You looked like you were ready to put up a damn fight. You won't go out like a candle, because you're a goddamn house fire.


	6. Chapter 5 - Hide & Seek

**Summary for the Chapter:**

>         "Look what I found! A lost little rabbit!" 

Everything will be okay. It will be okay. Right? It will all end up okay? Yeah? Yeah! Yes, of course. It will be just-'

        THUD

'Shit, ignore it. It will be fine! Stop overreacting-'

        "Oh, sweetie, where are you~? You can't hide forever!" A sinister voice sang, echoing against the cement walls of whatever hell hole I had just entered.

        I didn't know how long I had been locked up in this corrupt organization anymore. I stopped counting after a week. The fights I managed to pick with the maniac, Kenny, seemed to get nowhere. It only ever ended with me getting in more trouble than I liked.

        And now, here I was, listening to the sinister pounding of Kenny's large boots as a resounding pulse ran through the wide cement room like a virus, and it made its way into my eardrums, making my body tremble in fear, and anticipation.. but also, increasing fury. I hid behind some stupid, dark green, plastic dumpster that, the longer I sat behind it and held onto its cold, rough exterior, the more I grew to resent it with a huge fucking passion.

        "You can't hide forever, sweetheart. It's time to stop playing hide and seek. You know I ALWAYS win, deary."

        God, every single cell in your small, starving body wanted to scream. Your lungs and the disconnected part of your brain wanted to yell so loud at Kenny and tell him how much of a selfish prick he is. He had abused you with what he called 'training.' He has left you to bare the starvation and dehydration for so many nights, which, in his words, he calls it a 'test of survival.'

        He's a fucked up man, and it pissed you off to see his repugnant, wrinkly face, and his vile greasy hair, and golden teeth. His breath always smelled of pot and beer. It smelled like a fucking pub, and it made you sick. It made your hands jittery, your heart pump, your mind race, and your instincts tell you to punch him in his senile, revolting face. 

        The dumpster I held onto so tightly suddenly made a violent bang and shook by, what I could only assume, was Kenny's fist, "I need a goddamn beer, girl. Just come the fuck out!"

        My fatigued heart plummeted as it proceeded to beat violently against my rib cage. I held my breath, controlling every sound my exhausted body made as to not draw any attention from, what could only be, a fuming Kenny.

        He's right there, I thought. Just a foot or two, and he could grab me at any moment- FUCK. JUST... FUCK! EVERYTHING IS NOT OKAY, RETREAT GODDAMMIT- RETREAT!

        But I couldn't move. My muscles felt stiff and my mind felt completely devoid of thought. I no longer knew what was happening. My vision was becoming darker, my mind was void of all ideas as to what my next move was. A ride on a pointless carousel. An abnormally large alligator waiting to bite me as I slowly inched closer without the ability to stop it. The body I thought I knew better than anyone else, I could no longer control. I was just a fucking piece of gold out in the open at this point. I could go anywhere, but nowhere all at once. 

        The large dumpster fell over, making me inhale the air I didn't realize I had been withholding from my desperate lungs. The entire floor shook like an earthquake as the dumpster rolled away, revealing a very pissed off Kenny. The look in his eyes lied an absolute lunatic. And you were fucking horrified.

        "Look what I found! A lost little rabbit!" 

        "FUCK YOU!"

        Kenny reached out, grabbing your messy [color] locks and lifted up your weary body with a strength you couldn't match. 

        "And this is why we need you. Fucking strong and fast, you just don't know how to use it correctly."

        Your feet hovered barely above the ground as you kicked and your hands grasped tightly at Kenny's iron grip on your increasingly abused scalp, "I don't care how fucking hard you try, I'll never bow down you prick!"

        Kenny performed his stereotypical coyote laugh and shook you around with a smile only a prick would possess, "Are you sure, princess? Even after we send someone back to your home to take care of your sickly mother every day? Is that not enough for you?"

        "YOU COULD BE LYING!"

        "You're right, we could be lying... she could be starving to death in that fucking bed right no-"

        "SHUT UP GODDAMMIT!"

        "Clawing at the floorboards, calling out your name, frail and ill... all because of you."

        You screamed, tears rolling down your cheeks as you snapped and punched the mistreated air... but no good came of it. Kenny leaned into your ear, his hot breath like a plague that stung your skin, making you tense up and freeze. The old man whispered, "[Name]... Help me... It hurts... I think I'm dying.. [Name], I lied. Your father's dead. And he didn't even remember your name-"

        He had burst your last nerve.

        All of the misery and irritation turned into blind fury as it swelled up into your small fist. You jaunted it forward with as much force as you could, landing an immensely hard blow into his right eye, and even better.. all while his eyelids were open. Kenny immediately reacted, but not in the way you expected. After punching Kenny, [Name] felt everything go numb.

        All you could see were vivid colors as fireworks burst in your vision like the shot of a gun through your body. The back of your head had been undoubtedly hit against an object, a solid weight now banging a hammer into your brain. The only sound that ran through your eardrums was a deafening ring, piercing your skull and sending sparks through your body. Your small, shocked body dropped to the floor, allowing the agonizing misery to spread like a disease. In a matter of a few seconds, it felt like daggers were being shoved into your back, rubbing salt into the cuts all over your small body, and the blossoming of an irony taste seemed to take shape in your mouth. It was a bland flavor you had quickly become familiar of ever since you came to this nightmare. Blood had begun dripping down your bruised lips, and it felt as though someone had taken a hot iron straight to your cheekbones.

        You put a shaky, pale hand up to your face, feeling the heat radiating off of wounded cheek. This pain was unmistakable. You had been punched right into the cement wall. 

        But, goddammit, that punch to Kenny's face felt so damn satisfying.

        "Heh... I admit I should have been a little more prepared before dealing with a little brat like you... You remind me of a certain someone, both too fucking headstrong for your own good..."

        You proceeded to take the blood from your mouth and onto your fingers, staring at it. Watching as it stained your skin, reminding you of how locked up you are. How fucking screwed up you've come to be. Your eyelids felt heavy, but you still lifted your skull with dull eyes and a sunken expression plastered on your face. The wall had given you a cold hug as you sat on the floor, the bitter air filling your lungs and adding salt to injury.

        Kenny stood in front of you, tall as a tower, looking down at you with his long, thin fingers covering the eye you took a good hit at. The blood ran down his face and his arm, making its way to the floor like a worm. His face was no longer mad, or sadistic. It was... sad?

        "What a man... Punching a little girl-"

        "Stop downgrading yourself, girl. You're not little... Not anymore at least."

        "Oh.. right," You said, lifting your body up, pushing your dry hands against the wall to allow yourself some assistance, "I'm not a little girl, am I? I don't even remember how old I fucking am, or the date, or what even matters right now."

       "Too young to be cussing."

        "Yet I do it anyway... What even is an appropriate age for cussing, hm?"

        Kenny chuckled lowly, "You're 13-"

        "What a stalker..."

        "That isn't what matters, [Name]. I want to be serious. You can't continue on like-"

        "YOU PISS ME OFF!"

        Before you could say anything else, Kenny walked over to you and grabbed the collar of your black cape that you hadn't taken off ever since your grandfather had given it to you. He lifted you up, allowing your feet to hover, just like before. This time, Kenny wasn't having any more of your shit as he walked out of the large cement room and down the halls. Zero conversation.

        You kicked your feet, trying to get his hands off of you, "What are you doing? Do you think you can just fucking punch me and just throw me back in my cell? THAT'S NOT HOW IT WORKS! Get your disgusting paws off of me, stop trying to control me. IT MAKES ME SICK!"

       Kenny didn't respond. He didn't even give you one more look as he sped down the halls. The one exception was that you didn't recognize the path he was taking. It was all unfamiliar, and the walls seemed to appear less-- abandoned?-- as you two continued down the hall. We came to a door, and he used his free hand to grab the doorknob and violently throw it open. A woman came to him, grabbing me and placing me on the ground right next to her.

        "Take care of this girls wounds, then take her back to CELL: 0178."

        "Of course."

        "And, [Name], here is your birthday present."

        He shoved something towards you, and you hugged it tight as hell. The woman didn't have the chance to say one more word as Kenny turned his back, his coat drifting in the air as he turned on his heel and proceeded to swiftly walk down the hall again. You took a moment to process his words.

        It's... my birthday? How the fuck does he know that? Why does this stranger know more about me than I know about myself?

        A.. journal?

        It was my journal. The one I wrote in every single day. The one I had been given from my grandfather before he disappeared mysteriously. Maybe Kenny isn't so bad after all...

        "Come on, sweetie. Let's get you fixed up. Sit on this bed."

        I glanced over to the white bed that sat in the middle of the room, looking more comforting than anything. I quickly walked over, jumping onto the wide mattress, and allowing myself to slowly breathe in my surroundings. The room was completely white, it looked cleaner than anything I had ever seen before. I was used to abandoned houses, splinters, floorboards, clothing as pillows, and the smell of cigar everywhere I went. And.. of course, it was better than my cell...

        The woman came over with her blond hair in a bun and a uniform that this whole organization wore. It was a flannel, with a black cape just like yours, as well as white pants that were covered in layers of belts in rows. They had long boots to top it all off. This organization was all about secrets. Murmur behind my back after notes passed to everyone but me. I felt like I was in the middle of the ocean, but people act like it's a pond. I've been forcefully drowned in it, lost in constant waves of water, and I have yet to even know the damn name. No matter how many questions I asked, they never got answered. The response was always, 'That's a secret in this quarter,' or, 'It has yet to be officially defined yet.' They were completely opposite answers, and so you could only say they were both lying.

        "Oh dear, what happened to you, honey?"

        "Uh... I fell down the stairs..."

        She grabbed my hand, and it was only now that I saw how swollen my knuckles had become, "I don't remember stairs ever being able to do this... It looks like you got into one rough fight."

        "Well, y'know, stairs can put up one good fight, haha.." You said, unsure of yourself.

        "Poor, silly girl. Watch where you're going next time, yeah? I don't like seeing little ones as young as you enter my office more than anything.." She said, grabbing a bag of ice from a box and a roll of bandage.

        Other kids? Okay, I have no idea what to think of Kenny anymore.


	7. Chapter 6 - Viper

**Summary for the Chapter:**

>       I loved spilling my shitty opinions on dead people. What a great hobby, [Name]. But then, I realized something else...
> 
> 1\. I'm standing out in the open for everyone to see.
> 
> 2\. There is blood spilling around this dudes corpse.
> 
> 3\. Someone is fucking watching me.

        Silence accompanied every nerve in your body, filling your ears with white noise. Your mind left uninhabited by thoughts--

        A loud bang sounded from behind you.

        The gun had gone off.

        "Bang! Let's get this shit show on th' road!"

        Once the words were said, there was no going back. The girl dashed forward, ignoring all of her surroundings, yet breathing it all in at the same time. She felt the hysteria of stumbles and yells overflow her skull as her heart beat against her rib cage like a pounding drum. Her young frame burst with adrenaline as air rushed through her dry lungs, down her thin arms, and ignited a spark of fire through her legs. The girls' knees clunk together like rusty metal as she sped her drained body from checkpoint to checkpoint. 

        "What a joke!"

        Ignore it, [Name]. They aren't talking to you, you thought.

        "I spent months training these idiots, and this is what I get back in return.. a bunch of bumbling morons. Kenny said this was a good group. What a fuckin' liar..."

        Apparently, they hadn't met you yet.

        All of this certainly wasn't life or death, but it definitely felt like it. And you were ready to act accordingly.

        Other competitors had lost their minds once the gun had set off. They were all falling down like petty soldiers that hadn't learned to hold their sanity together. They were all too busy cutting the string between their mind and body into shreds as they fell over and practically piled on top of each other, running completely different ways in an attempt to escape. And the worst part: they are all fucking adults. The girl found it more of a challenge to dodge all of the other competitors than the obstacle itself. Her sore feet were begging for a break. Her brain banged against her skull, hoping for some kind of release from this hellish nightmare she had been forced into. With every second that passed of her bandaged hands grasping cold metal, her legs gathering bruises and slivers like a magnet, and her boots pounded against the muddy earth, it made her want to just fall. To let go, allow her body to go limp and let gravity take control of her aching limbs. She just wanted to stop moving and let the bitter wind and repugnant dirt envelop her in a tight hug that never budges. A hug that sends her into a spiral of unconsciousness and a quick death, to end the game. She just wanted to leave this stupid carousel ride of pain, because it brought nothing but tears, blood, and anarchy. She was on a ride she didn't want to be on anymore.

        Target detected. Line of sight 4 cm to the right. Aiming...

        You threw your body behind one of the boxes beside you, getting into a crouching stance. Grasping your knife's handle, now covered in sweat, you swore under your breath. This was going to be one hell of a ride. These attackers deaths were going to stain your hand's blood red.

        BANG

        It's fine, you told yourself, trying to gather your thoughts, not allowing the fear to grow in your fragile state. The gun went off just now, here's your chance.

        You peeked over the box, observing your surroundings quickly. There were boxes surrounding the training soldier standing there, almost like some fucked up campfire, where we all told stories of who you all killed that day. He had a small gun in his hand, looking around, fully alarmed. It was all just a game of listening, sensing, and... well, feeling was not included. When the man turned his back to you, you jumped over the box without making a single sound and held the man in a tight grasp. 'One hand on the forehead, other at the jugular with the edge of yer knife, ya' hear?' Just as Kenny once said, 'And don't waste a single second. Yer life is on the line in these moments.'

        The man put his hands up immediately, and played dead, allowing himself to put all of his weight on you. You immediately stepped back, letting go, and saw him drop to the cold mud and close his eyes. This wasn't real after all. It was all just a game.

        Another BANG sounded off from your right.

        You immediately dropped to the ground, allowing your knees to pound into the sludge, causing it the remnants of the earth to fly. You swiftly hid behind the boxes again, focusing on the task at hand: go to the left. You had to avoid it. You couldn't just go barging in head first. Yes. This was all still a game, but even then... Think logically. It is all just a game of tag.

        "I saw ya, kid. Ya can't ru-"

        Silence.

        Anticipating silence.

        Awkward silence?

        Okay, this is too much silence.

        You lifted up your head, peaking over the box to witness where that loud mouth had vanished--only to see him face down in the ground, eating up the mud like it's his first meal in quite some time. Surely, he wasn't dead... just a good actor?

       

 

        What a shameless man... face down in the dirt, the body laid out like he's sleeping in the biggest, comfiest bed they offer. He probably has some extra-stuffed mattress that he bought lying around at his cabin. I bet that when he bought that fucking fantastic mattress he thought, 'Another $1,000 down the trash? Oh well.' The rich. They always knew how to fuck up my composure. Every look they gave me only made my blood boil and my teeth clench, and they pranced around like they owned everything. It riled me up quicker than I'd like... They're so ungrateful. I hope he inhales a deadly disease for all I care. Maybe a handful of nicotine will do it...

        Then again, this moronic of a man couldn't even be wealthy. What if he's here against his will? 

        I bet he isn't enjoying the taste of that disgusting mud, though. I've learned from my own experiences that the taste of dirty water isn't too yummy. Definitely doesn't taste 'fresh.' A few weeks ago, after a shitty 8 hours in the practice room with Kenny; studying how to make my footsteps as quiet as possible, I sat down to drink a cup of water they had left for me. Let's just say that shit flew--to be specific--right into Jazzy's face. I was about to begin apologizing profusely, but I was immediately reminded that Jazzy has never been a 'normal girl.' She does not realize that some things are maybe... oh, I don't know, out of the ordinary? Jazzy does stuff that I always predicted, yet, somehow she never ceases to surprise me. Instead of showing any annoyance or irritation as most would predict, she literally stood on a chair like some god and started screaming, 'IT'S RAINING!!'

        Clearly, we've been locked up in this hell of a training camp for WAY too long; Jazzy was starting to lose her sanity.

         There was a surge of pain that shot through my neck straight to the base of my skull, causing my body to twitch and suddenly come back to life. I casually started to realize something not so casual: I've been staring at this mans corpse that was spewed out like he was preparing for someone to pick him up and fly him away. I was staring at this man like some miniature titan, ready to devour his flesh; or some vampire that happened to stumble upon an innocent victim, craving for some ultra-fake-blood, with a side marinara of mud. This man certainly offered all of that. 

        I loved spilling my shitty opinions on dead people. What a great hobby, [Name]. But then, I realized something else...

1\. I'm standing out in the open for everyone to see.

2\. There is blood spilling around this dudes corpse.

3\. Someone is fucking watching me.

        The place we were all doing this stupid 'game' was underground, yes... but it was basically a wasteland. Useless metal laid everywhere, along with some wood that the citizens had forgotten about. It seemed like a perfect place for us; a home for the misfits. But there was something quite peculiar about the debris that laid pointlessly around the current perimeter. My heart was not doing well, yet there was no specific reason. Something just felt--off. Like something was out of place, or in an area, it wasn't meant to be in. It didn't feel right, and my mind and body were most DEFINITELY picking up on it. It's like my internal system suddenly flipped a switch like there was some titan sprinting my way, with the intention of eating me like dinner was just served. But there was nothing...

        That's the problem. 

        There's nothing.

        It's complete silence.

        This was a battleground. When I entered this place, I'm pretty sure there was no sign saying, 'You're safe. It's quiet all the time. It's time to meditate.' No, someone would have come sprinting toward me--face red and body full of adrenaline--with a huge ass gun or machete minutes ago; yet, it was as if all of my competitors had gone extinct. Just like that. Gone, without a trace, except a dead man's corpse at my doorstep.

        I could hear the air filling up my lungs, and swiftly making its way back out into the bitter, stale air. The sound of my heartbeat was so evident, it was as if I'd grown another heart right next to my eardrums; like pounding boots against cement, or throwing punches toward brick walls. I tried identifying this feeling that had seemingly come out of nowhere, my eyes glued on my surroundings like some hawk. Every beat of my heart made me feel as though time was running out. I counted each beat, hoping to find some meaning behind all of the panic and heat flowing through my veins.

        Had days passed? Years?

Who knows; maybe I'm already 35 years old and on the line between life and death. By chance, this was just a heart attack?

        There had to be some real intent behind these feelings. Instinct? Very possible, it could just be panic naturally taking its course, laying down a small sanctuary in your veins; leaving when it wants to. It's just a bodies simple reaction to incoming danger. But there's no way threat coming my way, there was literally no one here. Maybe I was just vulnerable, and overthinking things... I didn't know if I should trust my gut feeling or not, but as time went on, I found my choices were becoming increasingly constricted. My only option was to run.

        Maybe I could run forever. Maybe if I could keep my legs moving forever, never stopping, never sleeping--I could run away from this hell, I could make it back home. My father and mother will be waiting there, arms open wide, father no longer gone, and sickness rid of my mother. God, I could sleep in my own bed again like I used to, hug my mother and father, and maybe even visit my grandfather. What if he wasn't dead, what if he--

        No...

        What is this feeling... 

        ...Fear.

        It wasn't until I recognized it that I realized why, and how this feeling had ended up driving me mad. Maybe I was crazy. Maybe I just needed some fucking sleep and my bruised frame was trying to find some way to get me to just lay down and rest. But, I swear to all gods that through a crack between two tall pieces of metal was an eye...

        No, not just an eye, but someone's face was actually peaking out and staring at me. Watching my every move. They were watching as my face scrunched up in complete fear, and they watched as my hands began shaking violently; the rest of my body was vibrating as if an earthquake had suddenly struck through the earth like a wave. 

        They were stepping out of the shadows. Fuck.

        Do I run? Do I walk? Hell, do I fucking jump for joy? 

        WHAT DOES THIS DUDE WANT FROM ME?

        I immediately recognized every feature. I noticed every strand of hair, to the shape of his eyes, to the way he held the bloody knife in his hand. The red liquid dripped from the sharp edge with a purpose. He held that blade with plenty of intention that didn't go undetected by my [color] eyes. The only difference from last time was he wore ODM gear. His facial expression, the red fluid that stained his cheekbones, nimble hands, and his red vest that covered his white flannel. His cold dead eyes as they bore into my soul.

        "Someone's grown."

        I sucked in air, holding it there with wide eyes glued to the boy in front of me, "You have got to be fucking kidding me, I swear I'm going insane!"

        "Kenny tends to have that effect on people," The male gave a small smirk that I barely noticed in the shadows. 

        "Honestly, I'd love to joke around about how much of a douche bag Kenny is, and how stupid this whole 'organization' is, but there's a DEAD MAN RIGHT IN FRONT OF ME IF YOU DIDN'T NOTICE. This is NOT-"

        The boy slowly walked forward out of the shadows, and my heart jumped up into my throat, vicious heat spreading through my neck and into my brain like the plague, "Oh.. I guess there is a dead man," He smirked again, his frigid gaze admiring the work he so clearly did, "I wonder who could possib-"

        "DON'T YOU DARE SAY THE THING I THINK YOU'RE ABOUT TO SAY!" I felt my blood boil with sheer animosity. I could feel every drop of the blood from the man's knife as it hit the ground, slowly making a small puddle of another man's blood. My sweaty heads gripped my blades handle relentlessly, my muscles tense and ready to fight at any moment. My face felt hot, sweaty, and each nerve ending on my body boiled with absolute disgust for this other human, "You caused this man's death... This is just practice!"

        "I couldn't help it, I wanted the true experience."

I can't believe it... This dude is fucking crazy.

        "--because who wouldn't want to just fucking stab a man?"

This can't be happening...

        "--hearing them beg and whine about their families and--"

What if... what if he targets my family and.. my moth-

        "--FUCKING MORON, ARE YOU LISTENING?"

        I jerked my head up, my eyes wide with horror, and my head pounding with atrocious thoughts wandering like beasts inside of a cage. Every speculation ran around in my head, banging against my skull, trying to escape in some way. I don't mean to be a hypocrite. Really. But the instinct to kill this man felt like it was crawling on my skin like some viper. I felt like it would bite at any moment, and I would pounce on him.

        "God, you're annoying."

        "I didn't say anything?" You scrunched up your nose and furrowed your eyebrows. "Why the hell do you think killing is even slightly acceptable? We already have so few people, killing people doesn't hel-"

        He sighed, "I don't kill as a damn choice, alright? It's my job."

        "Oh really? Who told you to, 'kill a man in a practice arena at the Anarchy at this time?' And the chances of us meeting again at such an unlikely place? Explain to m-"

        He made some unidentifiable sound with his teeth and threw his knife slightly in the air, grabbing his knife backward and placing into his satchel swiftly, "That's gonna stay a secret. It's not exactly my place to tell you." He turned around, going back towards the debris that was scattered about everywhere, "I'm heading out. Enjoy the rest of this stupid game, kid."

        'That girl just killed that man..'

        I turned around, seeing a huge crowd now gathering around me. I had completely forgotten about the dead corpse that laid in front of me in the mud. They all were surrounding me in on every side and slowly walking towards me, their faces full of disappointment, fear, mourning, and some had hints of bitterness scattered across their pale, bruised faces. Each one was allowing their cold eyes to pierce right through my heart, their knives or guns still out, ready to attack me at any moment.

        I tried turning around again to find the actual culprit and possibly get everyone to understand that I didn't do jack-shit. But it was no use. The guy was gone. He had been gone a long time ago.

        The Anarchy and Kenny are going to have my head.

        Fuck.

       

        

        


	8. Chapter 7 - I'll Make You Suffer

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N. BLACK TEA IS AMAZING. YES. THANK YOU FOR YOUR TIME.
> 
> Anyway, I think I will begin writing another story, but it's quite difficult. I have multiple ideas, and I'm trying to decide which one I should bring more into focus. They're both nice, but eh... Though, I think I have established the names. Both of them may or may not be reader related, and most likely... maybe romantic. They may end up being quite.. serious? If that's a good way to put it. I'm seriously super excited to see what I can bring to the table.
> 
> The names might give you some ideas as to what it's about, MAYBE. Heheheh.
> 
> Bulls-eye ~ (A Levi Story) [May 25th, 2019]
> 
> Endgame ~ (Unknown) [July 8th, 2019]

"I DIDN'T DO ANYTHING!"

        The nurse was speed walking in front of me, following me down the hallway as two massive men held both of my arms on either side as I viciously kicked at the empty air like a ravenous beast. The woman's giant, white lab coat danced around behind her, scratching against the dirty floor beneath her and flying around in the air every time she took a step. She glanced behind her and gave me a strange look just past her thin-framed glasses that read, 'you're screwed, kid. just give up.'

        I felt completely helpless. This was all out of my control as they proceeded to drag me to my punishment that laid down multiple long hallways. My legs were burning and screaming out for mercy as I continued trying to throw my body around, hoping they would lose grip and I could possibly run away. I wanted their hands gone because I'm almost completely sure there were bruises running across my forearm all the way to my bony wrists by now. The tips of my fingers were cold, my hands felt numb, and the circulation from my wrist to my shoulder came to complete halt by now. I just wanted to run, I wanted to sprint and never stop. I just wanted to not feel like I'm stepping on eggshells all the time. I wish I could live out my childhood. I wanted to just be free.

But that wasn't going to happen. 

        I had to face reality eventually. There was no escape, because the men that currently had my small frame high in the air just by my bruised--possibly broken wrists, weren't going to be taken down by a malnourished teen like me. They could easily throw me into a cage, down a chute, or into an execution room anytime they wanted. My life was not in my control anymore. These adults controlled it with every word, grasp, bruise, and agonizing punch to my face. They poisoned me from the moment I entered this destructive organization.

Anarchy.

        A home for killers, spies, thugs. I never chose this as my future, I was chosen for this to be my future. Kenny chose this for me, he said I was made for it. He said I was young, and that being a normal kid in this kind of world was never going to happen. It all circled around death because living was not an option. It was all about fighting, violence, anger, hate, and war. Every time I took a step to fight back, I just got knocked down again. Every time I finally do something right, no one looks and sees what the f*ck I did. It had gotten aggravating that I finally gave in. I sucked in my sh*tty, cold comebacks. I controlled my boiling anger and I stopped my habit of throwing the disgusting slosh-food right back at the lunch lady. I even started having manners. God, I had finally backed down and sat like some dog on a leash, and I entrusted them that they would respect me in return.

        I hoped they would let me join the Sky-High Anarchy, and finally let me go above the ground. Even if I was forced to sleep in garbage cans, and eat rotten meat, and even if I was stealing from one of the most wealthy kingdoms on this earth. My plan to attempt joining the Survey Corps had long passed. I begged Kenny. Hell, I got on my own two knees and prayed to him like he was the ultimate god. He took every dream I had since I was little, balancing them on his one hand like it was a piece of glass--then dropped it. He then stomped on it, burned it to ash, and forced me to dig it six feet underground. He forced me to hand it over to some citizen for the price of nothing. He f*cking forced me to throw that sh*t off the face of the earth and never allowed me to even say goodbye. I watched it fly away like a bird after he completely tore down my hopes of getting into the Survey Corps.

        And every time I mentioned the Survey Corps after that, he made me run 50 laps and never allowed a drop of food for the rest of the day. I mean, not a great way to spend an evening. I could be chomping on some 'wonderful' slush the lunch ladies so cheerfully offer. Yum.

        But that was back when I was simply a rookie. A stupid kid. I had gone up another level in the past year, getting up to the rank of Martial Anarchy--just below Sky-High Anarchy. I had been upgraded to an actual room with bunk beds; still being forced to live with Jazzy. I was given the chance to actually eat in a cafeteria with all of the other competitors, instead of being locked up in my own room and being fed like an animal. They let me move freely, allowing me to visit the training rooms for archery, martial arts, knife throwing, etc. 

Now, all of that work felt like a sh*tty waste of my life.

        I didn't know what was coming, but I knew I was most likely going to be drowned in a bucket of water; beaten to a pulp by some real criminals and starved in a cell.

        With this knowledge, I lost my breath. The nurse was following the mob of men that were carrying me to the cell, trying to convince them that she could help me. She was trying to convince them that I was just sick and that some therapy and medicine would do the trick, but it did nothing. Nothing could stop the ticking bombs that were currently hauling me. My eyes were full of tears, and my vision was blurry. My heart stopped and my air felt limited--so constricted. My vocal cords completely torn from my lungs and burned.

"PLEASE, I WAS FRAMED, I SWEAR!" Framed unintentionally or intentionally, I was very much framed. Hell, my knife didn't even have blood on it and I was being dragged along like some out of control mutant rat. Okay, maybe not that descriptive, but my point stands! I didn't get a word in or out before I was being accused and kicked out of the arena. I mean, yeah, the scene looked pretty bad (or framed pretty well; depends which side you look at it) but even then, I couldn't even take a step before I had a gun to my head!

        The nurse glanced at me again, her mouth opening and face pale, but no words came out. I could tell her mind was racing just as much as mine was. She probably felt hopeless, and I felt utterly helpless, "[Name], it will be okay, just breathe. Kenny should-"

        "Men! Put the damn kid down, wouldya'?" A familiar voice yelled from behind all of us. The grasp on my arms finally lifted, and I took the chance to hug my arms. I scrunched up my face, glaring daggers at the other men, and quickly reaching for my knife that held in the brown satchel around my thigh--

        A calm hand grabbed onto my shoulder, sending me a jolt of reassurance and comfort, "It's all good, [Name]. Put'cha hands down, yer gonna be just fine. Ya, two soldiers are free to leave. This here girl is in my custody."

        "But, she's a killer, boss."

        Kenny's hand disappearing, instead of standing in front of me and towering over the men in front of him, "Don' f*ckin' talk back to yer captain, buttercup. Leave before this turns rotten."

        I released the breath I didn't realize I had been holding as I saw the two men walking away. My heart still pounded against my rib cage, and the thoughts of my fragile mind began to echo in my eardrums. I had words to say--so many f*cking words--but every time I tried to move my dry lips, only air escaped. The only sound that followed past my torn frame was the sound of hyperventilation and the drum of my heart. I slowly left my fighting stance, dropping to the floor. I put my cold hands into my wild hair and allowing my wrists to protect my red eyes. My eyelids closed, my wet eyelashes tickling my arm, and allowing comfort to run along the surface of my skin, and assist my muscles in relaxing. The adrenaline slowly drifted away, my heart coming to a slow stop as silence surrounded me. My hot breath drifted through the bitter air, dancing around and making a cloud of smoke hug my cold skin. The boiling anger had taken some time to come to a stop.

        Time felt almost relentless. It felt like the silence had gone on for days, and the clock never struck an indefinite time. It felt like the night or day never came because it never ended. Time seemed to slow down to snail speed and crawl upon on my crippled body like a snake. Whispering in my ear, slithering around my neck...

Jaws open wide and waiting to-

        A hand came upon my shoulder once again, and I recognized it has Kenny's. My bony shoulder twitched from the pain that jolted through my arm from the contact. My teeth bared and I tried not to allow any more tears to prickle my red, parched eyes.

        "Ya' okay, kid? Looks like ya' took some good hits."

        Before I could control my emotions, the anger barreled itself right through my chest. I threw my hands away from my face, allowing my red; bruised face to be witnessed by the other two that stood in the torch lit hallway, shadowed by the slight darkness in the small corners lining up along the walls, "I DIDN'T DO IT, KENNY! I JUST TURNED AND THE GUY WAS DEAD! HE.."

        He sighed, "Yup-"

        "JUST.." I stammered.

        "I got it, kid."

        "POOOF! GONE!" I spat in his face.

        "He was dead, I get it."

        "I swear-"

        Kenny shook me out of the rest of my sentence, "I know you didn't do sh*t, [Name]. Control ye'r self, 'kay?"

        I couldn't control myself. My gaze was stuck directly below me, focused on the dusty ground. Kenny stood in front of me, looking down on my ruined mental state, "It was... IT WAS THAT BOY-"

        "That's not for yer little mind to know. Susie, care to take her off my hands?"

        I threw my hands to Kenny's arm, 'If he wants to play this game, so be it. I'll f*cking play.'

        "NOT FOR ME TO KNOW? I JUST WITNESSED A MAN DIE, AND THEN NEXT THING I KNOW I'M BEING DRAGGED DOWN A HALLWAY BY SOME HUGE STUPID MEN, AND YOU HAVE THE NERVE TO SAY, 'IT'S NOT FOR YOU TO KNOW?'" Kenny didn't react as I threw a tantrum right in front of him, just staring down at me, his large hat shadowing his features and only allowing his large frown to show. "F*CK! You're all just going to say I was seeing sh*t! THERE WAS SOMEONE-"

        A hand grabbed onto the top of my arm, tugging me back and down the long hallway.

 

      

 

 

       "Have you been taking your medicine?"

Silence.

...

        "You have to speak eventually."

        I just hugged my bony legs, keeping my sh*tty comebacks to myself, allowing it to jump around my head. Every instinct was telling me to just blurt it out. I wanted to tell her everything that happened, all the sh*t I saw, every feeling that ran through my veins, and all of the colorful words that were spewed out. Damn, it would be so nice to simply spill it. I just wanted all of this blame off my shoulders. I wanted a plate of sanity and a cup of reassurance in my belly, but deep down inside I knew none of that was going to happen. With the situation I'm in, I was just going to get laughed at and dusted off everyone's shoulders. I couldn't imagine the number of rumors going around about me now.

        'What if she's crazy?'

No.

        'Damn, I wouldn't doubt it if she had some affair with that dude.'

I'm going to drive myself nuts eventually...

        'You think? I heard her mother was a prostitute.'

I looked up, seeing the nurse staring at me with wide-eyes, "Yo, you aren't getting jack-sh*t from me, got it little Susie?"

        The nurse leaned over to where I sat, and I backed up. The cushion only allowed me to go so far back, even when I allowed my spine to dig into the couch. I could almost feel the woman's warm breath tickle my pale face, calming me in a strange way. So, I sat there, allowing her eyes to bore themselves right into mine. I swear I could telepathically hear her saying, 'You're okay.' But I wasn't okay. Nothing was okay. My life felt like a lie. She was spending so much time trying to get me to tell her everything that happened. Every detail. But I couldn't. It would only make me seem crazier.

        "[Name], listen closely. I am NOT judging you in any way, I just need you to be honest with me, and tell me what you saw," She insisted, putting her long, thin hand on top of my frigid fingers that dug into the armrest, "Hallucinations are normal-"

        "I'M NOT F*CKING HALLUCINATING," I spat into her face, her expression immediately going from stern to disgusted. "None of that was a hallucination. That man did not die by my hands, that other man did it! I can tell you the descriptions and everything. He's f*cking real! HE HAD BLOOD ON HIM FOR F*CKS SAKES!" I sat there, looking at her with a surprised expression at how I reacted. I waited for her response, but it never came. Instead, she calmly backed up and rested in her seat completely. Her blonde locks had been released from the bun, circling her face perfectly, shaping her sharp cheekbones and her long chin. The face that showed comfort before now only read sympathy. She only pitied me. She sat back with a calm face, but I knew inside she was laughing at me. What a great feeling it would be to just knock her out cold...

        As if the thoughts of hecking that woman up never happened, she smoothly reached to the side table right next to her, grabbing her clipboard and pencil, and quickly began writing information. Probably some sh*tty advice on my next dose.

 

        I leaned back, allowing my hair to cover my face, and the thoughts to invade some more. This woman was causing my lid to flip like no other. Every word she spoke was beginning to seem like the government. I had evidence, yet she threw it away because she simply was 'an adult.' She was 'higher up' so she deserved 'respect.' She probably thought this was funny. I bet she is having some scandalous relationship with Kenny, and THAT is why she even attempts at helping me. There's no way she'd attempt becoming a motherly figure to me simply by choice.

"Do you know this person?"

FINALLY!

        "Yes! Yes, I remember him. We met a long time ago! His name is Levi!" I blurted, rambling incoherently; finally feeling as though she trusted me enough to be honest, "He had blood all over him, and even a knife! He had ODM-"

        The woman just put her hand up and spoke with pity; but some kind of humor laced into it, "It's quite common for people with Schizophrenia to name their hallucinations. They often come out of the blue as well. Most don't even know it's fake because some have some insanely real-"

"But... It's not..."

Sh*t...

"Susan, please! I beg of you, I know that I saw him-I know-"

        "I'm sorry, dear. I'm going to need you to breathe, and calm down. Mental illness is difficult, especially in these times, but you can make it! I believe in you, honey. We will be upping your dosage and order that your teammate will make sure you have it every night and morning." She stood, taking her clipboard with her and going to the door, "Come on, let's go back to your room."

        I stood up on my wobbly, bruised legs, allowing the pain to sink in. My malnourished body barely held itself up, along with my delicate mind that was beginning to become plagued with thoughts that it was all just a lie. I had been imagining all of it. Levi doesn't exist. I killed a f*cking man for no reason. All of my senses were blocked, and I could no longer hear anything. The woman's mouth was moving, but no sound escaped from her thin lips.

        My skull throbbed with an agonizing pulse. Confusion coursed through my veins, making my body feel bewildered on whether I should sit or sat; walk or run; sleep or stay awake. I didn't know if I deserved punishment anymore. I just wanted to sleep and never wake up.

"Please..."

        "[Name], it is no longer up for discussion. Come on, the curfew is in 15 minutes." She gave me a look that read, 'you're driving me crazy and I'm so f*cking close to calling in Kenny right now.' The nurse stood holding the okra door open for me as I stood in the middle of the room like a mindless zombie. I was waiting; begging internally for her to realize I wasn't crazy; for Kenny to run in guns blazing and prove to her that what I saw was real. I wish I could put Levi to jail. I wanted a f*cking apology at the very least. The longer this woman spoke the more I wanted to jump out of a window and yell for a titan to come munch on my for their afternoon snack.

        I had to find out who this kid was because he very clearly existed. I saw him with my own two damn eyes. He was there! Heart beating and his lungs breathing. He was alive from the highest point of his air, all the way to the soles of his shoes. He killed that man with the bloody knife that was held in his pale hands. The kid didn't even flinch at the sight of him; he made a f*cking joke out of it! His eyes just stared down at the bloody corpse with a void, expressionless gaze. Levi didn't seem completely there... He seemed slightly different from when they met back then.

Less snarky, and more empty. How ironic, right?

        I remember him telling me how he had to. It wasn't his choice, it was just kind of forced upon him. Nevertheless, he still has the choice to back off, doesn't he? What cruel person would give him a job of killing-

Never mind, that's hypocritical. I mean, this place is honestly no better.

        Allowing the thoughts to circle my mind, increasing my already pounding headache, I bit my lip and slowly walked forward. My boots carried me through the doorway and down the onto the cement and into the hallways; the nurse right at my heels. I knew where to go, after all, I'd been down this path many times before. A year or so back, I remember when I came down this hallway after a very... proactive fight with Kenny. I could feel the throbbing ache of when my head got pounded into the wall. My senses tingled from the nostalgia that crept through my veins. A feeling of sentimentality of my past ran over my muscles, all hair on my arms standing up as a shiver grazed over my pale skin. What was left behind was a feeling of misery. I felt like skin prickle with tenderness as if someone was poking me with a needle.

        All of my pondering thoughts came to a halt, and all feeling froze. The numbness was finally discovered upon my nerves as I continued to walk down the never-ending corridor; coming to a complete stop at my room door. I put my hand on the cold metal of the knob, when a hand gracefully landed on my shoulder and warm breath ran down my neck, "Your medicine will be here in the morning. Let's just hope this 'Levi' doesn't come to kill you overnight, ay?"

'B*tch,' was the only thing that ran through my head. 'I'm going to f*cking prove it.'

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ❝ While I slept you crept in and pulled the rug right out from under me,  
> Then the rain stole away and took the parts that kept me functioning.
> 
> My heart will be blacker than your eyes when I’m through with you.❞
> 
>  
> 
> BLACK EYES - RADICAL FACE


	9. Chapter 8 - The Demons Are in Your Head, Dear

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The only solution when you don't know what the heck is happening? Kenny, duh.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> My story coming out on May 25th is going to become an Eren x Levi story. Same date, same story, different ship aah...
> 
> BULLS-EYE [Levi x Eren] ~ May 25th
> 
> On the other hand, I'm scrapping Endgame because the story didn't seem interesting enough; the date also seemed a bit too late. Instead, I'm making another story with a different concept and different name that might also become Ereri. It will be good, but it may still be a little while before it comes out... I still need to fix a few things on the plot. I don't wanna overdo myself and throw my mind into writer's block lol.
> 
> SPRINGTIME [Levi x Eren] ~ June 25th
> 
>  
> 
>  
> 
> 𝑻𝑯𝑬 𝑻𝑹𝑰𝑨𝑳𝑺
> 
> 𝘛𝘩𝘦 𝘵𝘳𝘪𝘢𝘭𝘴 𝘤𝘰𝘯𝘴𝘪𝘴𝘵 𝘰𝘧 𝘢 𝘧𝘰𝘶𝘳 𝘴𝘵𝘢𝘨𝘦 𝘱𝘢𝘤𝘦𝘳 𝘴𝘶𝘳𝘷𝘪𝘷𝘢𝘭 𝘵𝘦𝘴𝘵.
> 
> 𝘌𝘢𝘤𝘩 𝘤𝘰𝘮𝘱𝘦𝘵𝘪𝘵𝘰𝘳 𝘪𝘴 𝘵𝘩𝘳𝘰𝘸𝘯 𝘪𝘯𝘵𝘰 𝘢 𝘣𝘢𝘵𝘵𝘭𝘦𝘨𝘳𝘰𝘶𝘯𝘥 𝘤𝘰𝘯𝘴𝘪𝘴𝘵𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘰𝘧 𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘭 𝘧𝘪𝘨𝘩𝘵𝘦𝘳𝘴 𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘢𝘳𝘦𝘯'𝘵 𝘢𝘧𝘳𝘢𝘪𝘥 𝘵𝘰 𝘥𝘪𝘦. 𝘐𝘯 𝘧𝘢𝘤𝘵, 𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘺 𝘩𝘢𝘷𝘦 𝘵𝘰 𝘥𝘪𝘦. 𝘐𝘯 𝘰𝘳𝘥𝘦𝘳 𝘵𝘰 𝘮𝘢𝘬𝘦 𝘪𝘵 𝘰𝘶𝘵 𝘢𝘭𝘪𝘷𝘦 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘮𝘢𝘬𝘦 𝘪𝘵 𝘣𝘢𝘤𝘬 𝘵𝘰 𝘺𝘰𝘶𝘳 𝘴𝘵𝘢𝘵𝘪𝘰𝘯 𝘢𝘵 𝘈𝘯𝘢𝘳𝘤𝘩𝘺; 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘮𝘶𝘴𝘵 𝘨𝘦𝘵 𝘵𝘩𝘳𝘰𝘶𝘨𝘩 𝘦𝘢𝘤𝘩 𝘴𝘵𝘢𝘨𝘦 𝘣𝘺 𝘬𝘪𝘭𝘭𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘢𝘯𝘺𝘰𝘯𝘦 𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘴𝘵𝘢𝘯𝘥𝘴 𝘪𝘯 𝘺𝘰𝘶𝘳 𝘸𝘢𝘺.
> 
> 𝘎𝘰𝘰𝘥 𝘭𝘶𝘤𝘬, 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘧𝘰𝘳 𝘨𝘰𝘰𝘥𝘯𝘦𝘴𝘴 𝘴𝘢𝘬𝘦, 𝘥𝘰𝘯'𝘵 𝘥𝘪𝘦.

        The next morning had you restless and fidgety, itching to start a new day so you could somehow let off the fire in your blood. Last night, your mind ruthlessly decided to think about everything that had happened recently as if it was some banquet. A full course meal of theories, side snack of anxiety, and a 'sad-o-margarita.' Let me just confirm, that sh*t did not taste good. Worst banquet, 0/10, never go again. Part of you wanted to know that it was all just a bad dream. It was all just a nightmare, right? Definitely. It was all just some stupid fantasy your fragile mind made up. It's not like you spent the entire night crying into your soft pillow and attempting to inhale any bit of hope that was somehow hiding in the crevices of that pitch black 'room.' You'd totally be lying if you mentioned that Jazzy came down from her top bunk and started cradling you like some baby, because, let's be honest, you were kind of-almost-literally balling your eyes out. Oh, and get this, you would never take a 'few drinks' of the VERY ILLEGAL whiskey Kenny had given you as a birthday present. And you'd never just so happen to be drunk and end up trying to convince Jazzy that you were a horse, then proceed to throw up in the bathroom while Jazzy tried comforting you.

Like...

F*ck. No, You'd never do any of that. That would just be so immature, and you're so not-

        "HOLY SH*T MY HEAD F*CKING HURTS!" You screamed at the bottom of Jazzy's top bunk bed. Your body was completely drenched in sweat, from head to toe. Not only that, but an intense ache was running from your spine and all the way to the base of your skull. You felt so dizzy that throwing yourself into a horde of titans didn't seem like such a bad idea now. You felt like you'd walked the deck, jumped into the ocean like it was made of ice cream, until the captain finally decided, 'oh, I guess she seems innocent. we should let her back on I guess.' The blood in your body also decided to stop flowing because you felt dead numb; and damn, you couldn't see sh*t. What a great way to start a morning! Sadly, it was a huge realization that yesterday was not just a nightmare. It was all very much reality. The strain in every muscle in your body made you realize that-and it also made you slightly ponder-on what the actual f*ck happened last night.

        "So like.." You put your hand up to your throbbing forehead and slowly sat up in your bed, "My head feels like I got ran over by a d*mn horse, punched by an old man, then buried 6 feet underground, and I suddenly came to life. Maybe I got incinerated too..."

"In other words, I feel like sh*t." You said simply.

        Jazzy stood next to the door, slightly bent over and adding another strap around her black-panted thigh for where her dagger would go. You could see the huge grin that was plastered on her face, it was only slightly hidden by her bangs that hung over her features, "You're not alone. I mean, I did stay awake until the break of dawn helping your sorry ass. If I remember correctly, I quote you saying, 'Nay, nay, I'm hungry. Is that weed? I need to catch that weed!'" I groaned, and she began laughing like some coyote. I just wanted to wipe that stupid smirk off of her dumb, beautiful face, "I'll be honest though, you did seem pretty stressed last night, and you rambled incoherently-like-all damn night."

        You scooted to the end of your bed, letting your legs hang off the side. Grabbing your boots, you efficiently slipped them on, "Yeah, okay. Besides the hangover, I think I did get some of my anger out-"

She started laughing like a donkey, "Dude, I was about to fall asleep and I just hear this, 'Woof, woof. I'm a goddamn dog-"

"Jazzy-"

"Meow, you're purrfec-"

"I really don't-"

"It's a hot hunk of-"

        You jumped at her and covered her mouth with your hands. Her face immediately scrunched up like she ate a lemon and she threw your hand off, "You smell like a cow!"

"Aw, I love you too Jazzy!" Jazzy only stuck her tongue out at me as a response.

        After grabbing your cape, and opening the door; you officially started your morning. You received your 'medicine' from a very concerned Susan, immediately wanting to throw the bottle right into the back of her head as she walked away, and turned a corner. You even went as far as to lift up your arm and get into aiming stance as she strolled off in her stupid white dress and small bun, and her beautiful, perfectly sculptured face and-

Dammit!

        You ended up gaining the attention of the several other competitors now exiting their rooms, staring at you like they didn't know whether to stop you, call for someone, or just watch this all go down with a bag of popcorn. Their faces read, 'like, the nurse is cool and all, but wouldn't it be funny?' And, honestly, you agreed that her face-down on the ground with the ache from the velocity of a pill bottle in the back of her head was a great way to cheer up the rest of your already shitty day. It would just give you a smile. But, then again, it would also be entertaining to see the pill bottle just bounce back because of that bun that protected her tiny head. One day, you thought, one day...

"Nurse piss you off?"

"Yup."

"I'm guessing you wanna throw that-"

"-At her. Yup, you bet your ass I do!"

        You looked up, meeting the calm, blue eyes of one of your tall guy friends. His name was Dillon. He could be funny; behind his dry humor, inferno hair, unusually good looks, and abnormally robotic voice-you were sure there was a hint of life. Yeah, he made a few good jokes once and a while, but most of the time-his passion to be a heavenly angel and save everyone around him drove you f*cking mad. "Need something Dillon? I don't think this pill bottle was some horn to call all douche bag-ery my way."

He smiled slightly, "You shouldn't resort to violence, there's always another path you can take, [Name]."

        Jazzy groaned louder than necessary, attempting to show off her annoyance. You figured it was still your turn to respond to this hippy, "Okay. Dillon. I'm going to say it nice and calm for you since it is the only language you speak. Yesterday, this hell-of-a-nurse took me in speculating that I, [Name], am bad-sh*t crazy! According to her, I'm, 'schizophrenic.' Like, it all happen-"

"Oh, you mean that dude you killed?"

Wait. Whoa whoa whoa, WHOA! WAIT.

No.

        If Dillon, the most unpopular, loner dude in this entire facility, knew that-then everyone knows! EVERYONE. F*ck. Sh*t. Many f*cks and many sh*ts. Duckling f*cks and baby sh*ts. This isn't good. Now that you think about it, the people who were walking by the three of you were making up very interesting conversations about you, or rather you and that now-dead-dude. You were beginning to pick up on a few of the rumors that had picked up over less than 24 hours. 'Someone said she had an affair with him,' or, 'Maybe he f*cked her mom?' Oh, and best one yet, 'According to Jenna, she stared at his corpse for like 10 minutes, saying she saw a bug on his chest so she killed it.'

        What was this? Some form of scandalous adult drama I never knew existed? Some kind of adult drama I had to begin getting used to? What the actual hell was happening in this stupid place!?

        I clapped my hands together in a way of getting the slight anger that had been slowly building up, out, then I huddled Dillon and Jazzy close, "Okay, look, guys, I did not kill that dude. I simply heard a gunshot, hid behind a huge box, and BAM! He was just laying there being all dead and stuff! You're all catchin' my drift, right?"

        Dillon and Jazzy exchanged odd looks. You don't blame them. This was quite the situation they were caught in just by being your friends. Just talking to you was a threat; especially Jazzy for being your damn teammate. For f*cks sake, you're surprised you didn't see her throwing you around from panic. She was completely clueless about whether or not she was going to be dissed by the other competitors, and possibly aimed and killed for this. She did seem quite upset, but then again, who wouldn't? You and Jazzy had known each other for so long, it would be impossible if she lost trust in you now after being best friends for almost your entire lives!

        "Kind of... I'm starting to understand what drunk-you was saying last night. It was all kind of incoherent, but I remember you talking about how the nurse brought you in because she assumed you were hallucinating. According to you, you saw an, 'incredibly scary boy with black hair, and a bloody knife-'"

Dillon gasped, "Oh no!"

        You laughed and gave him a big grin, "Dillon, you're such an innocent little soul... Anyway, yes. He killed that dude quicker than I've ever seen before; that man probably didn't know what hit him! I met the kid previously a long time ago. I was stealing medicine for my-" Used to be sick mother, "...for-my mother. I ended up getting chased down by a man, but that kid killed him. Slit his throat and all in a matter of seconds. Zero hesitation... His name is Levi."

"Leeeeeeee-"

        "Jazzy, no. This is not a time for jokes!" You lightly punched her shoulder. She laughed and tugged at your black cape and Dillon's vest that had the anarchy logo stitched into it, "It may not be time for jokes, but it's time for food! I'm starving. We should go have story time while we eat with everyone else.. so you don't have to re-explain!?"

"But-"

"Pleeeeeeeeeease..."

You sighed, "Fiiiiiine..."

        After a few more 'theories' from some very uninvited competitors, a couple of mumbles about whether you should just hit them all and sprint spilled from your dry lips, and some worried exchanged glances between Dillon and Jazzy; the three of you headed down for breakfast. It was same-old-same-old, just as it was every day. About a hundred other competitors rushing to either get their disgusting 'nutritional' slop breakfast or trying to run from the lunch ladies who were sending death glares to everyone. Especially you; actually, I think you were the only reason why the lunch lady, Ms. Mason, decided to 'accidentally' drop the slop a little too far from your tray so that it landed on your hand. Yum.

        "Oh no, I wonder who pissed in Ms. Marble-d*ck's bed this morning." You said with a scrunched up grin that was obviously forced as to hopefully pleased the grumpy old woman in front of you; trying to control yourself from flinging the 'breakfast' right back at her. It was probably a little awkward for the others around you because Jazzy was currently staring at you like you turned into a dog-cat and then suddenly, BAM-human again. Everyone else didn't seem too surprised about the situation though--since it happened every single day. You looked up to meet a few eyebrows that dipped a little too low for your taste. In other words, she was an angry little woman. "Oops... did I say that too loud?" 

"Move [Name]."

        "Oookay, fine." You snatched a piece of bread and a potato, throwing it onto your tray without another care and walking off with Jazzy and Dillon right at your heels like little puppies. Your boots echoed through the busy cafeteria until you jumped up on the table you sat at every day, with all of your friends. Jazzy and Dillon were mostly your duo best buddies; the rest were kind of just there. You never really spoke to them outside of breakfast, lunch, and dinner; mostly because they were all just weird. Reeeeeally weird. Like, yeah, Jazzy and Dillon are quite odd, you'll admit. According to them, they thought that standing in front of fire gave you a tan; but that's only because they're misinformed.

        The people at your table, on the other hand, were just odd. For example, Loo was a short Asian girl who sat at the table and when I say short, I mean short. You remember the first day you met her it was the day the entire team was getting measurements for the uniforms when you all had finally breached Martial Anarchy. Unfortunately for you, with not much of a surprise, you ended up starting another fight with one of the assistants (and yes, you were still an exceptionally headstrong person--blame the environment.) I mean, when someone is poking your knee randomly with some hard metal and someone else with a mohawk is wrapping a thin piece of paper around your neck with a very interesting gaze; what the hell can you expect? And, oh beauty, out of the large crowd of confused strangers came this tiny little girl with exceptionally long, straight black hair with bangs that just barely covered her bitter, dead eyes; you swear if eyes could talk they would be saying, 'you're irrelevant, but your death is also my euphoria.'

        In summary, she ended the torment of rulers and hammers with a few snarky words and a glare. They ran off and assigned you a 'one size fits all,' which ended up being a bit baggy, but it wasn't your fault-the assistants just don't know how to do their job. Yeah, that's totally it.

        When you had finally strutted your way over to the table, you gave witness to Loo stabbing her fork into the luscious bread, and you could only watch and imagine the bread begging for help. It brought upon a scrunched up frown on your face and Loo's black orbs boring themselves deep into your soul after you had officially sat down and taken a bite of your potato. Jazzy and Dillon sat on either side of you; still very concerned, but they didn't waste any time digging into their food like it was some juicy drama.

"Hi [Name.]" Loo murmured.

'Oh thank f*ck she put down the fork,' you thought aloud.

You simply stared at the lump of bread, talking to yourself as everyone looked at you like, 'maybe she's crazy after all.'

 

"Hey, Loo. How's your morning been? Where are the others?" Jazzy's voice echoed across the table, her mouth full of slush.

"Um.. the others are kind of scared of you-" Her small fingers pointed at you, just perfect. "They said that you kil-"

        "OH, that's nice Loo, really. That's just so-wonderful-SO [NAME], SPILL!" Jazzy spat with food flying from her lips. You scrunched up your face in disgust, every instinct wanting to shove her tray flat on her face, but you stayed silent. Quiet. Not calm though, not calm at all. In fact, your insides were confused about whether they should be screaming for food or telling you to ignore Jazzy's question-but the latter wasn't going to happen. Ignoring a topic that riled you up so much couldn't happen because you loved it. Ranting was fun.

You struggled to speak, and ended up with a very cut-short answer, "I didn't kill anyone."

So much for ranting...

        "I believe you, [Name]. I really do. But, did you ever ask Kenny about it?" Dillon questioned. He was right. For some stupid reason, Dillon was right. Kenny had something to do with it, and you were convinced with a snap of a finger. "In fact, I saw Kenny a few days ago speaking to someone I'd never seen before. He had a hood on, so I didn't see his face or anything."

"Pffft, were they exchanging drugs or somethin'?" 

        "Jazzy, shut up. The kid is definitely short. I mean, taller than Loo," You pointed at her, and Loo's attention was immediately gained. "but, still, the kid is short and he has a small frame. I'd say... Five foot?"

        A snicker echoed through your ear, and you saw Dillon and Jazzy giving you skeptical faces. They were whispering stupid things like, 'he must have angry little man syndrome.' How f*cking mature of them. You threw your hands on the table, signaling for their attention. You were allowing yourself to get lost in the moment; in the jokes and poking fun at people-but you had to focus on the task at hand. By the smallest chance of a four-leaf clover you got out of receiving a very life-threatening punishment yesterday, and you had to take the chance you had. For all you know, you could be chained to a wall; days and possibly weeks of dehydration and hunger becoming more and more blind for each passing moment.

        Jumping right back into focus, you gave hard glares to the three who sat at your table; they were all completely silent after your hands banged against the metal surface. "You all need to grow up. This isn't funny! I've seen this kid kill, and damn is it a sight. I was thinking he's some sort of assassin? I'm worried that he will f*cking slit our throats in our sleep; what if he wipes out this entire organization! I-"

"Whoa, okay, not the entire organization-"

        You waved your hand at Jazzy, "Yeah, okay. I over exaggerated. But you get the point. This kid is dangerous." You put your hand on Dillon's shoulder, giving him a stern look, "If Levi is the kid who was speaking to Kenny, that means they've probably got some deal going? AND I GOT CAUGHT IN THE MIDDL-"

"Why am I here?"

        You glanced over to the very melancholy looking Loo sitting at the other side of the table, still picking at her food. Oops, forgot she was here. "Uh, you could join us in catching this killer-kid? You're pretty smart, so maybe you could help us out!" Kenny was someone that was hard to get to. He was usually out somewhere, most likely drinking and 'messing around.' He had a hard skull, and you swore that his eardrums got absolutely blown to bits; the guy never listened to you. It was going to take a few people with some intelligence to get him to spill anything; but to get him to spill out some disgraceful info like, I don't know, exchanging drugs for killing people? It was going to take more than a little effort...

"What about The Trials?"

        Sh*t. You had completely forgotten about it. That was in a few days; training was going to be boosted a crazy amount, people were going to be sleeping in and hitting the food and gym intensely. That included your training partners. Loo handed you one of the papers that focused on the trials and what it was about. As if you needed that; you had been studying that sh*t ever since you stepped foot in this organization. The trials wasn't anything new to you, or much of anyone for that matter. Kenny has mentioned it forever, and he always talks about it like it's knowledge that needs to be burned into your forehead and injected straight through your veins. It was either The Trial or nothing.

You gave a huge grin to everyone, this was going to be a huge failure.

        "Cool. Okay. Our first move will be asking Kenny-but we can't go straight to 'who the f*ck was that kid.' We gotta keep it undercover for right now." They all seemed satisfied, nodding their heads and giving each other comfort-needing glances. No one knew what they were getting themselves into, but they were going head-first despite how scared they were, and you loved it.

        "Since he trains Jazzy, Dillon, and I together, we could try kicking some info out of him-" A few uh's hit your ears, "Okay, not literally. Just, possibly bring up the conversation and casually 'drop the bomb' y'know? And Loo, you've got more brains than all of us combined. Since you train with a separate group with Luis and Simon; do you think you could convince them? That I'm-"

"-not a wack-job?"

"Yes; that I'm in fact not crazy."

"Sure, but we could just scrap all that and do it right now. Look behind you."

 

        

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 𝑻𝑯𝑬 𝑻𝑹𝑰𝑨𝑳𝑺
> 
> 𝘛𝘩𝘦 𝘵𝘳𝘪𝘢𝘭𝘴 𝘤𝘰𝘯𝘴𝘪𝘴𝘵 𝘰𝘧 𝘢 𝘧𝘰𝘶𝘳 𝘴𝘵𝘢𝘨𝘦 𝘱𝘢𝘤𝘦𝘳 𝘴𝘶𝘳𝘷𝘪𝘷𝘢𝘭 𝘵𝘦𝘴𝘵.
> 
> 𝘌𝘢𝘤𝘩 𝘤𝘰𝘮𝘱𝘦𝘵𝘪𝘵𝘰𝘳 𝘪𝘴 𝘵𝘩𝘳𝘰𝘸𝘯 𝘪𝘯𝘵𝘰 𝘢 𝘣𝘢𝘵𝘵𝘭𝘦𝘨𝘳𝘰𝘶𝘯𝘥 𝘤𝘰𝘯𝘴𝘪𝘴𝘵𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘰𝘧 𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘭 𝘧𝘪𝘨𝘩𝘵𝘦𝘳𝘴 𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘢𝘳𝘦𝘯'𝘵 𝘢𝘧𝘳𝘢𝘪𝘥 𝘵𝘰 𝘥𝘪𝘦. 𝘐𝘯 𝘧𝘢𝘤𝘵, 𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘺 𝘩𝘢𝘷𝘦 𝘵𝘰 𝘥𝘪𝘦. 𝘐𝘯 𝘰𝘳𝘥𝘦𝘳 𝘵𝘰 𝘮𝘢𝘬𝘦 𝘪𝘵 𝘰𝘶𝘵 𝘢𝘭𝘪𝘷𝘦 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘮𝘢𝘬𝘦 𝘪𝘵 𝘣𝘢𝘤𝘬 𝘵𝘰 𝘺𝘰𝘶𝘳 𝘴𝘵𝘢𝘵𝘪𝘰𝘯 𝘢𝘵 𝘈𝘯𝘢𝘳𝘤𝘩𝘺; 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘮𝘶𝘴𝘵 𝘨𝘦𝘵 𝘵𝘩𝘳𝘰𝘶𝘨𝘩 𝘦𝘢𝘤𝘩 𝘴𝘵𝘢𝘨𝘦 𝘣𝘺 𝘬𝘪𝘭𝘭𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘢𝘯𝘺𝘰𝘯𝘦 𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘴𝘵𝘢𝘯𝘥𝘴 𝘪𝘯 𝘺𝘰𝘶𝘳 𝘸𝘢𝘺.
> 
> 𝘎𝘰𝘰𝘥 𝘭𝘶𝘤𝘬, 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘧𝘰𝘳 𝘨𝘰𝘰𝘥𝘯𝘦𝘴𝘴 𝘴𝘢𝘬𝘦, 𝘥𝘰𝘯'𝘵 𝘥𝘪𝘦.
> 
>  
> 
> zombie - cranberries
> 
> ❝ another head hangs lowly, child is slowly taken, and the violence caused such silence.
> 
> who are we mistaken? ❞

**Author's Note:**

> Update Every Week :)


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